“I hope you’re having fun.”

Her lips tilted in a smile. “I’m having a great time. You have a wonderful family, Grant. You’re very lucky.”

“I know I am. And I’m glad you, Leo, and Anya decided to come down here with me. Thanks for that.”

She gave him an enigmatic smile, but then guests started to arrive, so he didn’t have a chance to talk to her, because he had to introduce her to his other uncle, Eddie, and his Aunt Cecile, and soon the door was open and the house filled with guests.

His dad’s old coach from Green Bay, now retired, made the trip. Grant hadn’t seen Fred Arendale in years, so he spent some time getting caught up with him. Fred talked to Grant about his team this year and how proud he was of Grant’s career. Then they were surrounded by Grant’s brothers, all of them having a great amount of respect for Fred.

He’d lost sight of Katrina because he was swallowed up by all the guests. Fortunately, he knew she could hold her own.

He’d just have to catch up with her later.

KATRINA WAS IN AWE OF THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS who’d showed up for Easton and Lydia’s party. She knew Grant was busy greeting people, and she was fine on her own.

Not that she spent a lot of time on her own. Neither did Leo or Anya. The one thing she’d learned quickly about the Cassidys was that they didn’t let their guests stand alone. One of Grant’s brothers would introduce her to someone, and she noticed Mia had stuck close to Anya all evening, making sure she didn’t feel like a wallflower.

Her brother had met a new friend in Easton, and when he’d taken a moment to go get a soda, he’d stopped by and told her he’d met Easton’s former coach and some of his old teammates from Green Bay as well.

Her brother was going to have stars in his eyes for a while, she could tell. She didn’t have to worry about the kids feeling left out.

Or herself. Right now she was sitting with Lydia and talking to a few of the women who were a part of the charity foundation she and Easton had founded. Some of these women were wives of Easton’s former teammates. She found them to be highly intelligent, most of them career women who had either retired or were still actively working. They were all formidable, and she sat with rapt attention listening to them talk about items on the agenda for their next meeting.

“We have a few scholarships to go through,” Lydia said. “I have the paperwork that we’ll need to review, but I believe there should be about ten we’ll give out this year.”

Lydia turned to her. “The foundation gives full-ride scholarships to underprivileged children in high risk areas. These are kids who might not qualify financially otherwise, but we believe stand a great chance at making a good life for themselves and their families. They just need someone to believe in them and give them the opportunity.”

“What a wonderful idea,” Katrina said, remembering what it was like to be seventeen, poor, and alone. If she hadn’t gotten that big break that had sent her career soaring, who knows what would have happened to her—and to Leo and Anya?

“Is this something every football player does?” she asked.

“Not everyone, but players who want to give back,” Varella, one of the women, said. “Everyone who wants to make a difference. Some of these men make a lot of money during the course of their careers. It’s a chance to pay it forward.”

Katrina liked the idea, and not just for athletes. She’d spent so much of her career hoarding her money, concerned about Leo’s and Anya’s future, that she hadn’t taken the time—or the money—to give back as much as she should have.

It was time she changed that.

She made a mental note to speak to her lawyer about that when she got back to New York.

In the meantime, she was learning a lot listening to these women.

The caterers came to Lydia to announce dinner was ready.

Lydia smiled at her friends. “Wow, how nice is that? I didn’t have to do any cooking tonight.”

“You should have a night off more often.” Mary, one of Lydia’s friends, laid her hand on her arm.

Lydia laughed. “Trust me. I have Easton take me into the city for dinner at least once a week. It’s not like I’m trapped in the kitchen.”

Everyone assembled and filled their plates, buffet style. She finally caught up with Grant, who got in line behind her.

“I’m sorry I kind of left you to yourself tonight,” he said.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been having a wonderful conversation with your mother and a few of her friends. I’ve been learning about the Cassidy Foundation.”




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